


Devil's Waitin'

by serpentunder_t



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Mild Language, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4451783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpentunder_t/pseuds/serpentunder_t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We’re at a concert and I'm sorry I can’t see a thing let me sit on your shoulders, maybe?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil's Waitin'

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd and I haven't slept in a while so I'm really hoping this makes sense?

It was Charlie’s 23rd birthday tomorrow, and she was going to be spending it with her mom and her uncle. So tonight she had been invited to a concert by Jason, whom she had lost in the crowd some time ago. She loved this band, but for the life of her, the venue was the practically the size of her mother’s living room, which to be fair was unnecessarily large but still.

She’d been coasting through the crowd, listening to the music as the bodies enveloped her, content to soak up the energy around her, even if she couldn’t actually see the band through all the sweaty bodies moving to the beat. That is, until she heard the first few chords of her favorite song, Devil’s Waitin’, and suddenly just listening wasn’t enough.

She was stuck, sandwiched between two parties of people, absorbed in their conversations, and directly behind some guy whose lean body was towering above her. She actually had to crane her neck, to which she rolled her eyes. Trying to break through before the band started to sing, she was only getting herself frustrated. Finally, as the first verse started to hum through the speakers, her resolve turned to steel. Tapping the tall guy in front of her on the shoulder she shouted above the ruckus, “Can I sit on your shoulders?”

He looked at her with a blank expression, and not sure if he’d heard her, she yelled louder at the face she could barely make out through the dark, “This is my favorite song. Can I sit on your shoulders? I swear it’ll just be this one song?” When he didn’t answer, Charlie thought he was blowing her off. She turned in a huff, determined to find a way.

She let out a high squeak as she felt her body being lifted off the ground and swung up. He threw her around like she weighted nothing, hoisting her up to his shoulders. Once she’d gotten comfortable, she let herself lose herself in the lyrics.

_I’m born in a weary but life’s just begun_  
_And I've run from the reasons and run to the gun_  
 _They say I'm the killer and thy will be done_  
 _And the doors won't be open when I've finally become_  
  
_I've seen the battle and I've seen the war_  
 _And the life out here is the life I've been sold_  
 _Yah I've seen the battle and I've seen the war_  
 _And the life in here is the life I've been told_

It wasn’t until two songs later that Charlie realized she was still seated comfortably on the stranger’s shoulders, as his hands gripped her knees, keeping her steady. Tapping him on the crown of his head she managed to get his attention. As his blue eyes turned upwards towards hers she felt like she knew him, but in the dark she couldn’t place his features. “You good?” She really didn’t want to get down, but imposing on people wasn’t her strong suit. She felt him laughing beneath her, the motion sending a surge between her legs.

“Yeah, I’m good.” And with that he turned back to watch the band, leaving her perched on top of him.

They stayed like that until the band wrapped up their set, when he finally reached up and practically plucked her off. Setting her down on her feet, Charlie looked up at him, wanting to say something. As she opened her mouth to inevitably make a fool of herself, Jason bumped into her. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” He was looking between her and tall stranger who seemed to have no issues with personal space.

“Hey. Yeah I lost you, and then he...” She trailed off motioning at the man beside her, searching for the words. “Helped.” She could read the jealousy plastered over Jason’s face like a deck of cards, but she couldn’t be bothered to feel guilty or bad. He’d left her, and she had always been resourceful. Before she could say much more, the stranger reached down and squeezed her forearm, turning and vanishing into the mob of people. “Thank you!” She tried to yell after him as Jason herded her out to the parking lot.

 

The next day brought a ringing in her ears as she dressed in a classic black dress that hit just above her knees. Knowing it would piss her mom off, she only threw her hair up in a ponytail and slipped into a pair of flats, readying herself for the awkward family dinner.

She waited on the steps of her childhood home for her mother to answer, gripping a 7 dollar bottle of wine in her hand and fidgeting with her zipper. The door swung open and there stood Rachel in a purple cocktail dress, blonde hair swept up in a French twist with pearls to match. After their rather one sided embrace, Charlie moved to drop off the bottle in the kitchen. “Oh Charlie, couldn’t you have done something with your hair dear? You only turn 23 once you know.” Her mother’s passive comment trailed behind her.

Danny was off at his internship in San Francisco, which left Charlie with only her mother, and her uncle. She loved Miles, more than anyone on earth, but the sexual tension between him and her mom could be cut with knife. Speaking of the devil, she nearly ran headlong into him as she entered the kitchen. “Hey kid.”

Charlie laughed as Miles was clearly trying to hide what he’d been doing. Grabbing the whiskey off the counter, Charlie poured some more into his ‘coke’ as he grinned at her. “Thanks kid.” Once all the booze was put away she melted into his hug, comforted in the fact that some things never change. Pulling away Miles yanked on her messy hair, “Did Rachel yell at you yet?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Takes her anger off of me for the night.”

He was turning to leave, “Why’s she mad at you?”

“Because I brought a surprise!” He hollered over his shoulder.

“Is it herpes?” But Miles just kept walking, chuckling and shaking his head. Charlie turned back to the counter, fixing herself a large glass of wine before taking a shot of Miles’ whiskey.

She made her way through the house she’d once felt safe in as if in a daze. She hated coming back here, ever since her dad left it never felt quite right. She was looking at the pictures hanging in the hallway, noting that all the ones including her father had been replaced when the back door opened. She tilted her head to look as Miles shouted, “Get your ass in here Bass, it’s not your party, you cannot cry if you want to!” Miles was laughing at his own joke as a finely dressed man with a scruffy beard and curly hair joined him with his back to her. She looked him up and down, trying to figure out where she knew that great ass from when he turned and caught her.

Charlie cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and walked up him and Miles. “Charlotte Matheson.” She thrust out her hand, holding his piercing eye contact when Miles jumped up.

“You don’t recognize him? Come on! You’ve got to know him! No” Miles was working himself up, “this was supposed to be the best surprise ever.” He seemed sad, but before he could say anything else the man beside him nudged him.

“How was I the best surprise ever when you didn’t even plan it? Huh?”

“Dammit Bass.” Miles looked sullen.

“Bass?” Charlie could barely believe her eyes, “Sebastian Monroe?”

“At your service.” Charlie started laughing, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t recognized him the moment he’d walked through the door. After all, he’d helped Miles babysit her more times than she could possibly remember. Charlie forwent the formalities and lunged at a much started Bass, pulling him into a hug.

“Long time no see.”

“Clearly.” She could feel his breath tickle her ear as she clutched at him, his arms snaking around her waist. His very strong arms. Charlie felt his muscles moving around her and suddenly she wanted to bury her hands in his hair. Resisting herself she pulled away.

 

She played catch up with Bass and Miles throughout the evening, telling Bass about school and work, and telling Miles which of her friends did what since he’d seen her last. Miles loved the gossip, even if he’d deny till the day he died. She was on her third glass of wine and hand thrown her shoes off sometime back, lounging back as they talked. “So how’d you enjoy the concert last night?” Bass’ voice was husky, low and powerful. Charlie loved listening to it.

“Oh it was so much fun, they even played Devil’s Waitin’, so it kicked ass.” Rachel hummed her disapproval as Miles looked back and forth between Charlie and Bass with disbelief.

“What concert?”

“Oh Jason took me out to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club last night and someone let me sit on their shoulders to see and…” She trailed off, “Wait, you didn’t tell him?” She motioned at a smirking Bass.

“No, I didn’t even know?” Miles and Charlie both rounded on Bass, but his eyes only met hers.

She could feel it in her gut, like a low rumbling, the same one she’d felt last night while riding on the stranger’s shoulders. Holding her gaze, Charlie’s mouth make a small O as her brain caught up, “It was you.”

Bass just dipped his head, still smirking as Miles flitted back and forth between his best friend and his niece. “He was what? What happened? What’s going on here?” And the more Miles got frustrated, the more Charlie couldn’t help herself as she made over exaggerated come-hither eyes at Bass. Finally when Miles was about ready to flip the table she broke, laughing so hard she spilled her wine.

Rachel yelled at her, as Miles stared, while Charlie just kept laughing, ignoring the red wine seeping into the table cloth and dripping down to the floor. Finally she caught her breath, “Thanks by the way, last night was really fun.” And as Miles rounded on Bass she chuckled heartily.

Bass threw up his hands in mock surrender, finally turning his attention off of her and onto his disgruntled friend. “Don’t look at me. It was her idea.”

Charlie kicked out under the table, aiming for Bass, but squarely catching Miles instead. A loud string of profanities left his mouth as both Charlie and Bass doubled over.

Rachel stood, and the laughter died on Charlie’s tongue. “Charlie, Miles, help me clean up this mess.” Charlie silently stood, gathering her forgotten plate.

“Is there anything I can help with Rachel?”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough Monroe?” And Charlie watched as Bass’ face fell, looking as if he’d been punched in the gut. He turned to leave.

 

Charlie dropped her plates in the sink, gave her mother her very best ‘go to hell’ glare, before rushing after Bass. She flung open the front door, afraid she was too late and he’d already be long gone, when she ran smack into him.

“Ouch, dammit kid, you’re hard.” Bass rubbed at his shoulder.

Suddenly self-conscious, “Don’t call me kid.”

Bass looked up, startled, “Why not? I always used to call you kid?”

“I’m not a child anymore.”

She could feel the heat of his gaze linger on her breasts as he surveyed her, “Clearly.” His tongue darted out to lick at his lips, and Charlie would’ve put money that he didn’t know he was doing it. She felt power rush into her, filling every limb as she raised her head higher at the thought. She took a step closer to him, feeling his body heat radiating through the night air.

“How long’re you back for?” Her voice was lower than she’d meant for, barely above a whisper.

“Not long enough.” His attention was on her lips, leaving her wanting as she felt her heart thudding in her throat. She closed the distance, standing on her tip toes to put a gentle, longing kiss to his lips. When Bass didn’t respond right away, the embarrassment that filled her was crippling. Of course he still thought of her as a kid, he was probably just wondering why she was acting so weird, and she pulled away.

No sooner had she let out a low breath, her eyes still shut in shame, did she suddenly feel Bass crash into her. His hand was fisted in her hair, dragging her focus to him, and she responded almost instantly. Opening her mouth she felt his tongue flick out to her lips as his other arm circled around her waist, pulling her even closer. Charlie couldn’t think for how on fire she felt, it burned where he touched her and stung when he moved. She felt as though she could live and die happily in that balance of pleasure and pain.

Charlie had always known she was an acquired taste, one that many didn’t care for. But with Bass she was suddenly melting into him, sucking at his lower lip as he pulled away. “We can’t.”

His words sent ice into her core, driving her away from him like he was contagious.

She backed up until she ran into the railing of the porch, controlling the slight quiver of her lip. Charlie knew she was tough, and right now as she looked at Bass, she brought herself up to full height, damning herself for not wearing heels, and turning her eyes to steel. Her resolve was like a gun, and once you angered Charlie Matheson, you’d best get out of the way. She was like her mother in that, and right now, she reveled in it. Her voice low, but forceful, “Leave.” The single syllable like a dagger between them.

“Charlotte, wait,” But she held up a hand to silence him before he could say any more.

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Bass let a long sigh, running his hand through his messy hair and dragging it down his face. Charlie tried not to notice how large and worn his hands where as she held onto the fire in her belly, feeding it with hatred and anger. But before she could command him to leave again he was towering over her, “You’re screwing with my head Charlotte Matheson.” And he kissed her, but Charlie wouldn’t let the small moan escape her mouth, instead keeping it firmly closed. She pushed him off of her with more force than she’d meant, sending him stumbling back with the cutest look of confusion she’d ever seen.

“I don’t care.” She crossed her arms, highlighting her round tits for effect. “This ain’t Burger King, you cannot have it your way.”

She tapped her foot, impatiently waiting for him to speak. The silence stretched as her rage grew, finally sending her off her ice throne and into the pits of blind anger. “If you don’t want me, leave and we’ll never mention this again. If you want me, have me. But there will never be any question, is that clear? You don’t get to have me one minute and then push me off, only to wrap yourself in your stupid pity party and guilt and then come crying back for more. That isn’t how this works.”

Bass only nodded. “What about your uncle?”

“What about him?” She all but screeched in annoyance. “He’d got nothing to do with who I do or do not fuck, is that understood?” Bass nodded again, his eyes still trained on hers. “And if he has something to do with who you’re allowed to fuck, I suggest you see a therapist dude.”

“What about your boyfriend?” At that Charlie slowed.

“What boyfriend?”

“The guy from the concert?” And Charlie almost laughed.

“He’s not my boyfriend, he was my high school sweetheart when we were 16.” She was biting her cheek, trying to keep the smile that threatened from coming forth. “That’s been over since it started.”

Bass nodded again, and she wanted to slap him or something. Anything to stop that damn slow nod he kept doing.

“What about Rachel?” At that Charlie paled. Shit, she’d forgotten about her mother.

“Dunno.” Her voice barely above a whisper.

“She’d hate it.”

“Yeah, she would.”

“So maybe we should, you know?” Bass was motioning to his car.

“Good idea.” And Bass grabbed her hand as they hightailed it off of the well-lit front porch and into the back of his car. Once safely concealed, Bass began plastering kisses down Charlie’s neck, moving to nip at her ear as she pulled at his shirt, untucking it from his slacks and splaying her fingers across the hard muscles beneath it.

Charlie melted into him, sighing. She could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics are Devil's Waitin by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, I always felt it was a song that Blackout Charlie would've loved


End file.
